


Pin An Angel Up

by Dibs_Diddlin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale in Lingerie (Good Omens), Body Worship, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kinda, Lingerie, Loud Sex, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not making an effort, Porn Magazines, Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Praise Kink, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), Subspace, Top Crowley (Good Omens), but like its pretty brief, sexless angels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibs_Diddlin/pseuds/Dibs_Diddlin
Summary: Aziraphale was a lingerie model for a newlyweds' magazine, under the guise of Miss Azra Fell. Despite her short-term career, Miss Fell was granted her own special edition magazine, featuring her and only her. The angel had kept it hidden in plain view, quite oblivious to the chance of a certain demon stumbling upon it.And that certain demon was very much thrilled with what he found.---Aziraphale modelled for a lingerie magazine back in 1950, Crowley finds them and thus uncovers a whole arsenal of kinks to explore for the two of them.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 341





	1. A Not So Well Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt of Aziraphale modelling for a nudie mag, well in this case it's not really that, more of a lingerie catalogue really.
> 
> I do have to mention that Aziraphale mainly uses he/him pronouns, but as Miss Fell it's she/her instead, so I apologize in advance if there are some parts were the pronouns get mixed up in between paragraphs.
> 
> Also another apology if the sentence structures seems janky and awkward, I haven't written a single fanfic in nearly 5 years, so I am a bit rusty.

Angels supposedly have an excellent memory. This is true when in comparison with human beings. You could say that Aziraphale has his in tip-top condition, he could recall almost anything and everything in his 6000-year old corporation. But please note the word ‘almost’ there.

Because apparently Aziraphale forgot the one time he starred in an exclusive lingerie photoshoot back in the 50’s.

Well technically he didn’t really forget about it. The entire experience was quite memorable. He had been sent on an assignment to guide wandering young ladies who were enticed into the world of scantily-clad models, back to a life of modesty, or so he assumed. Instead, he was caught in a bit of a crossroads when he discovered that these girls were not modelling for a lewd magazine, but in fact, a lingerie catalogue, marketed specifically for newlyweds. So technically, the existence of said magazine wasn’t really of taboo nature, at least according to the lovely girls that Aziraphale had the honour of knowing. It took a couple of talking to, but Aziraphale finally considered that there was no harm done with these girls. Though he did manage to lead two of the crew members to a path of righteousness before he left for good, just in case Gabriel asked for results.

Overall, Aziraphale had a grand time as Miss Azra Fell. 

Miss Fell came into the studio one fine winter day, in her thick winter coat, carefully styled hair, merry smile and kind eyes. She quickly convinced everyone that she was the English model that their company had requested months ago, and she fell into the matronly roll amongst the younger models in an instant, earning the nickname of Mother Fell in less than a week of befriending them. Miss Fell had enjoyed all the attention that was directed towards her. Despite appearing at least a decade older than the rest of the models, she was treated with the utmost respect and adoration from her fellow models and crew members. It was quite odd, at first, posing stiffly in the barest of clothing in front of a white screen, but everyone was so patient and understanding, that in a short time, Miss Fell was posing naturally and candidly for the cameras.

And it wasn’t like Aziraphale could resist the temptation of such well made (under)garments. All the expensive silks and satins, the extravagant lace and ruffles, each and every piece that was modelled by Miss Fell had such detailed stitching and was exquisitely styled. It’d be a crime to not wear them. Coupled that with the expression of absolute delight that Miss Fell had whenever she tried on a new set of garments, plus the constant stream of praises and acknowledgements to those who work with her, and the angelic aura that surrounded Miss Fell, she was quickly well beloved in the company.

So well beloved that on her last day at work, she was gifted an exclusive collection of her modelling, complete with a fold-out poster of her most beautiful shot.

Aziraphale himself had always treasured that special edition, why, he cared for it so much that he kept it nicely hidden from any beings, mortal or not, in between his never organized collection of other special edition magazines. As it is said, some things are better hidden in plain sight.

Too bad it was also in the plain sight of a bored demon casually browsing said collection.

  
  


Crowley had never been that interested in reading, his snake eyes couldn’t really concentrate of finely printed words for a long period of time, with or without any demonic miracles. But pictures, pictures he can stare and inspect for as long as he pleases. Some pictures are heavily detailed too, yes, but at least if he doesn’t mull over it too much, he won’t really miss the big picture (haha). That’s why, in the quiet of Aziraphale’s bookshop, Crowley strides by all the finicky print books and lounges by an idle magazine rack. Just like the rest of the angel’s bookshop, it was stacked and organised in his own not-customer-friendly way (or maybe it was just not organised at all), so Crowley plucked the first magazine within his reach, an exclusive edition of _Planters Guide._

Hours went by as Crowley went through the vast collection of magazines, all while his fussy angel was doing his inventory and annoying potential buyers at the front of the shop. He was probably displeased with Crowley’s absence and wanting the demon up front with him, snake form or otherwise, but Crowley had taken a sudden interest in the late 2010s line-up of classic motorbikes. 

As he finished flipping through that piece, he settled on a last one before he figured he would settle down for an afternoon nap. As he picked the last magazine, he immediately noticed the stark difference it had between the others. It was heavier, that’s for sure, and… glossier?

As he brought the magazine closer all of his brain activities came to a stop. 

On the cover, was a very familiar female corporation.

Even with the barest of glances, Crowley could immediately recognise the startling blue eyes and charming smile.

There, on the cover of “ _Blessed Brides- Exclusive Edition_ ” was Aziraphale, using the moniker of **Miss Azra Fell** , as it is boldly written in golden cursive. The angel was sitting coquettishly on a plush black sofa, making the sheer white nightgown he was wearing a stark contrast between it. His stocking-clad legs were crossed at the ankles, but one of his hands was tugging at one of his clothed shoulder, threatening to let it slip in an “Ooops~ dearie me!” fashion. Underneath the nightgown, was the barest hint of a lacy bra, and a band of an underwear peeking through the wispy fabric.

Crowley could not stop staring at the picture before him.

With shaky hands, the serpent turned to the first page, and again he is greeted with a vision that would have caused him a heart attack if he were a normal human man. There was Miss Fell again, in a soft pink ensemble this time. The frills on her bra matching the ones on her panties, her toothy grin and crinkled eyes in pure amusement from it. Miss Fell's posture was open and inviting, though it was more in a inviting-for-a-quick-chat, really. The next image was the opposite; clad in red lace and fishnet stockings, her body language was challenging, almost daring whomever was in front of her to approach. She was sitting down, legs splayed open, one was stretched out to the camera, while the other was propped up to her chest. She was resting her head on that leg, cradled by one hand, her expression was that of amusement. Eyes seductive, a nice blush settling, and a salacious grin that made Crowley groan out loud.

There were no thoughts in Crowley’s head as it was filled with one picture of Miss Fell to another. There was one where the angel was posing almost demurely in a blue babydoll dress. Then another obscenely indecent one made of nothing but strips of lace that warranted a sinfully sultry look from his angel. Some were dark and vague, in shades of rich greens and royal blues, a majority of them were in bridal white, with frills and ribbons and heavy laces. Each and every piece were steadily stoking the heat of the demon’s ever growing lust.

And it wasn’t just the outfits that were sending Crowley in a hungry spiral, no, the bare clothing had only accented what was best about Aziraphale’s corporation; his delicious figure. Each and every piece of ribbon or strap that were on Miss Fell accentuated her every curves and rolls. All in ways that made her especially tempting. Her miraculously generous breasts were sometimes barely contained in any form of brassier, leaving them generously propped up for all to see. And by all it meant Crowley. There was a slight dip of her waist, before it gave way to her ample hips, giving Miss Fell that highly coveted hourglass form. Then there were her legs, her blessed legs! Though not as long or elegantly shaped as any model would, they had a heavenly proportion that made for an enticing show when covered in tight stockings.

But it was Miss Fell's luscious tummy that had Crowley's rapt attention.

Thank someone that this magazine was published back when photo manipulation hadn’t been invented yet, so Crowley had a treat of Aziraphale’s stunning stretch marks on proud display, some picture even showing hints of gold. Every shot of Miss Fell were photographed with such an indulgent lense that anyone couldn’t help but feel a little bit sinful and blessed at the same time. There something ironic about someone as innocently looking as Miss Fell, with her silken curls and cherubic face, dressing up and posing in such a provocative way. 

He kept flipping onwards until he came to the fold out poster.

If he was surprised before, well,

  
  


There was Miss Fell, in all her angelic glory, laying on a soft white fur rug, her eyes in a dreamlike state, her smile a ghost of a giggle, her hair, still immaculately curled, but a few stray curls were laid delicately on her cheek. Her position was welcoming, inviting, hands almost in a come-hither motion.

But it was what she was wearing that had Crowley’s full attention.

It was a black set. Raven black, with gold trimmings. 

Crowley, through their 6000 year-old friendship, had always seen Aziraphale dressed in his standard colour of white, cream, and the palest of blues, excluding that one time he swapped clothing with the executioner from Bastille. So to see him barely dressed in black was quite a surprise for Crowley. The black straps and satin contrasted nicely against his angel.

Due to the size of the insert, Crowley could hold it under a more intense scrutiny. His eyes travelled to the platinum blonde of Miss Fell’s hair, a piece of black feather peeked through amongst it. The dramatic, yet strangely subtle makeup that accentuated her bedroom eyes. The hint of blush that expresses coyness was being contradicted by the dark lipstick that was inciting desire.

Then he came to the first part of the piece.

It was a black bra, not quite a bullet bra that was quite popular during this era, but a sheer, supporting one. The fact that it was very sheer did not escape Crowley, it almost transparent, and the little intricate gold lace adorning it did a poor job of hiding away Miss Fell’s pink nipples, and Crowley could not have been more thankful for that. His eyes traveled downwards, taking in the angel’s soft tummy, golden stretch marks proudly displayed. Her lace panties, like her bra, were barely covering up all her precious bits. Miss Fell’s garter belt added a lovely, ornamental touch for the entire ensemble. The golden straps were straining to pull her lace stockings taut. Crowley couldn’t hold back the choked gasp upon seeing his angel’s thick thighs enveloped by those tight stockings.

“Oh, Angel.”

Unable to process anymore Miss Fell, Crowley miracled the magazine away to his home, suppressing the guilt of taking something of Aziraphale without his permission. He convinced himself that he was ‘borrowing’ it, which is true, in a way. He needed it as a sort of reference, because it seems that Miss Fell has uncovered something Crowley would love to enjoy with his angel.

But for now, the demon would need a moment to compose himself before checking in with Aziraphale for their lunch.


	2. A Reverse Strip-Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley does extra research, plus a candid survey.
> 
> He is rewarded with an angel in sheer satin and lace

It’s been a couple of weeks since Crowley’s discovery, and he hadn’t mention anything, at least explicitly, to Aziraphale. He had been, however, buying a good amount of lingerie for his angel to try on. Despite never really asking about it outright, Crowley had been subtly looking for Aziraphale’s approval whenever he would deliberately walk past some particular boutiques during their usual stroll.

There were some sets that the angel gave a double-take, cheeks turning just a slight pinkish than normal, eyes lighting up, just briefly. He had a unique taste, though not all of them were of endless frills and laces, some Crowley would consider scandalous and downright provocative. Aziraphale did seem to show the most interest with see through fabrics, be it lace, fishnets, or sheer silk chiffon. he seems to also not be against corsets of any kind, which Crowley had noted, was the only form of underthings he did not model in. So this was new territory that needed an "OK." from Aziraphale. 

He had also took a quick detour during his online shopping session, whilst looking up stockings of various styles, and discovered another range of lingerie; sexy sweaters. Crowley could only wish he had thought of this, but he thanked the wonderful humans who had taken a huge step of creating this Virgin Killer Sweater nonetheless.

He also added a couple of them into his cart.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, somehow miraculously never noticed the subtle behaviour change in his partner. Sure he had noticed the lovely shops with the interesting lingerie on display, but he paid it no mind. He was reminded of his time as Miss Fell, really, oh how missed wearing such finely done garments! These new, modern designs seem a bit more risque than the ones he did back in the 50s, but they were still quite pleasant to look at.

It came to one day, when Crowley had waltzed into his bookshop mid-morning, inviting Aziraphale over for dinner at his flat. The angel graciously accepted, because he rarely had a chance to ever visit his lover’s home. And the thought of Crowley’s cooking was an even better incentive for Aziraphale.

That evening, Aziraphale came by and Crowley had already set the table. 

Their dinner was their standard, romantic affair. News and stories were exchanged, harmless flirtations passed back and forth, laughter that lasted up until they finished dessert. The gentle buzz of alcohol was pleasant for them both, Aziraphale thoroughly relaxed and happy, and Crowley lapping up the last drops of his liquid courage hoping that it lived up to the name.

“That was absolutely scrumptious, Dear. Thank you.” Aziraphale beamed.

“‘S not a problem, Angel. Anything for you.”

“Aah, but what seems to be the occasion, Crowley?”

Crowley stared at him with a hint of confusion.

“What do you mean? Can’t I treat you to a homemade dinner every once in a while?”

“While I’d hardly call it homemade if it had been demonically reheated from your fridge.” he began,

“And besides, dinner at yours is quite a rare event.Surely there is something you wish to discuss, something too intimate or private that wouldn’t be appropriate in a public setting.”

His angel wasn’t a daft one, and Crowley loved him for it. He sighed and got up, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his own, gently pulling the angel up. “You might want to sober up a little, Angel.” he requested. Aziraphale nodded and got rid of the alcohol in his system, retching a bit as he followed Crowley who was leading him to his room. He was no stranger to this room. In fact he had been quite acquainted with it ever since the first night after The End That Never Came. He noticed a rather large, nondescript designer bag sitting nicely on Crowley’s bed. He sat down, per Crowley’s nudge, and eyed the bag with less suspicion and more curiosity. 

“Why don’t you close your eyes and reach into that? And try to describe and guess what it is, Angel.” Crowley said while rummaging for something in his nightstand. Seeing as he had nothing to lose or fear, Aziraphale closed his eyes and reached inside. Amongst the tissue paper inside, he felt a familiar texture of satin. A structured piece of satin, with a hint of something rough, textured really, like lace, covering it as a thin layer.

“Describe it to me, Aziraphale.” Crowley’s voice greeted him.

Aziraphale gulped when he felt another piece of fabric, the same cool satin, but smaller, still trimmed with lace. “It’s… something made of satin, with a decoration of lace too. Two pieces, one is a bit more structured, it feels like,” he paused, slightly embarrassed, “ a bra, and… a very skimpy piece of underwear.” Aziraphale went silent for a moment, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes, but avoided his gaze from the contents of the bag. His fingers brushed lightly against something else. Another smooth piece, but longer. He was very familiar with these types of garments, and he sure was not opposed to trying them on for Crowley. He was actually more puzzled with why exactly had his demon suddenly gift him this? Aziraphale could not recall any conversations regarding lingerie, unless..?

“Is there something you are suggesting, dear boy?” he said turning to Crowley.

“I’m not sure, Angel. You tell me.”

A very familiar magazine was held in front of him. Aziraphale had quite a blush forming on him before, but seeing the familiar face of Miss Fell increased his embarrassment tenfold. Oh dear, it seemed that he had quite forgotten where he had placed that particular magazine. “Where did you… find this, Crowley?” his voice was almost non existent. He hadn't meant to keep it as a secret really, he was planning on telling Crowley about his little rendezvous and possibly suggest on trying it out in their bedroom affairs. Though it seems that the demon had beat him to it.

Crowley’s smirk sent a nervous warmth within the angel’s belly, “I don’t think that’s quite important, Angel. What matters now is that I think you would look absolutely delectable in those, ah, garments, I mean, as this piece of evidence would suggest so.” he waved the magazine in front of Aziraphale just slightly.

The angel finally gathered his courage to actually inside the bag. He gingerly pulled out the long piece of satin he felt before; it was stockings. Cream coloured, and shiny. The lace edges were a nice, dedicated finish. He noticed a few clips up top and immediately knew there were garters to be worn with it. He hastily shoved the stockings back into the bag, face burning with intense embarrassment now. He needed a few moments to properly compose himself, taking in deep breaths that he didn’t really need. “Angel? Aziraphale?” came the almost distant voice of Crowley, sounding concerned. As Aziraphale turned to look at him, he noticed the magazine was set aside besides him.

“Listen, if you don’t want to wear them, it’s no big deal. I won’t force you to. Just, talk to me, alright?” Oh, his sweet, darling demon. He’s misunderstanding Aziraphale’s silence. Well, couldn’t really blame him, the principality was rarely silent, often voicing out his thoughts when it comes to their bedroom affairs. He was just a bit surprised, mind still reeling over the magazine’s existence which had somehow slipped his mind. “No, no, dear. I’m not objecting to this. Really. Just give me a moment to properly take this in.” he glanced at the bag briefly, before turning back to Crowley, “It’s been a while, you see.” he chuckled nervously before setting the bag to his side. Crowley didn’t look so convinced, and took Aziraphale’s hands in his, kissing the angel’s knuckles as lightly as he could, asking for another reassurance.

Aziraphale chuckled kindly, holding his right palm to cradle Crowley’s face. The amount of love and adoration in his eyes could never be quantified by any being. “You know,” Aziraphale began, “I don't mind this particular outfit you’ve chosen for me, dearest.” His eyes drift back to the bag, one stocking peeking out from the mountain of crumpled tissue paper that nearly overflowed the bag.

“You must have picked one that you’d think would look good on me,right Crowley?”

“Oh Angel,” Crowley sighed, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale, “,I specifically picked ones that would make you look exquisite. You already look good, love, with or without any specific clothing.” his hands snaked up his Aziraphale’s back, reaching up front to the lapels of his coat, subtly peeling it off the principality.

“And who said that I only got you one?”

That sent a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine, as his coat fell off from his shoulders into a heap on the floor. He moved to undo the buttons of his waistcoat, but Crowley gently batted away his hands. “Let me unwrap you, dove. Maybe later you could give me a show, hmm?” Aziraphale nodded and allowed Crowley to unravel him, piece by piece. Off came his waistcoat, then his bowtie, and then his shirt followed suit. All spent a brief moment on the floor before being neatly miracled away with a flourish. Crowley guided Aziraphale to sit down again, nosing the juncture of the angel’s jaw, not quite kissing him, really. Crowley continued to do just that; barely touching Aziraphale in a maddeningly slow pace. Travelling down from the angel’s neck, his collar bones, his chest, though the downy soft chest hair was given a brief nuzzle, and finally his stomach, just above his waist.

Crowley granted just the quickest of caresses before finally undoing Aziraphale’s shoes. His belt and pants came off next, although he spent a bit longer just barely tracing the angel’s thighs and calves, stopping briefly to undo his sock garters, as well as his ridiculous tartan socks. Then, Aziraphale was sitting primly on his demon’s bed, in nothing but his light blue boxer shorts. Finally, finally, Crowley kissed him. Deep and lovingly, his hands now no longer giving just featherlight touches. Running down his angel’s back in earnest, earning a pleased sigh as he grabbed Aziraphale’s luscious bottom just a tad bit eagerly.

A giggle escaped Aziraphale as his demon started to trail his earnest kisses downwards, latching on a sensitive patch of skin on the juncture of his neck. He pushed back slightly, earning a disappointed growl from Crowley, “Oh, love, what about the show you wanted? Surely you can mark me up after?”. He was cupping the demon’s face in his hands, another giggle as Crowley’s eyes brighten upon the prospect of a reverse strip-tease. Crowley spun them around, changing position, causing Aziraphale to stand up as he sat down, grabbing the bag and held it up to his angel. Blushing again, Aziraphale took the bag and pulled out the first thing he had noticed before, the bra. Not to his surprise, it was quite a lovely piece. It’s style reminisces of the models from the 50s, something Aziraphale had tried on (and modeled) before. 

It was cream satin and had baby pink lace trimmings. It was… awfully cute? Well it was sexy in Aziraphale’s eyes, perhaps it was the colour palette that gave it a more youthful vibe, something he had grown out of, say a couple of millennia ago. But as he clipped it on, Crowley’s adoring gaze was more than enough to convince him that this particular choice of colour suited him. As he slid it on, Aziraphale had noticed a noticeable gap within the cups of the bra. With a quiet gesture, he miracled his chest to increase a smidge, just enough to fill out the bra properly. Crowley had noticed this minor miracle, but said nothing, instead enjoying the swell of Aziraphale’s new chest, just nicely shaped and contained.

Oh he was going to make the most out of this experience.

Next came the underwear. He had removed his original one, showing Crowley that he chose not to make any particular Effort, at least not yet. He slid on the satin underwear that Crowley had so kindly handed to him. Again, Aziraphale was delighted with the level of intricacies it had. The lace was so nicely made, he even noticed a few flecks of gold within it. The panties were snug against his hips, but hugged his behind so pleasantly. He gave a teasing wiggle, to test out the give of the underwear, but really to gauge a reaction from his beloved, who had been staring at him unblinkingly. He looked like a man starved, despite just having dinner! Although to be fair, he hadn’t really touch his share of dinner much.

Then it was the garters. If Aziraphale were to be absolutely honest, this was his favourite part in any set of lingerie he had ever worn. There was just something comforting, yet so scandalous about it that made him just a touch giddy. He slid the lacy piece around his waist, clasping it to a cozy fit around him. He ran his hand briefly against the material, feeling its texture and fit. For the stockings, Aziraphale had to sit down. Before he could say anything, Crowley had miracled a rather plush stool in front of him. Aziraphale said his thanks and went on to sit on it, stockings in his hands. These stockings weren’t really made of satin, now that Aziraphale had it closer to him. But it was still in that lovely cream colour, and it had a particular sheen to it. The lace obviously matched with the rest of the ensemble. 

Aziraphale started with his right side, pulling it up deliberately slow, watching as Crowley’s eyes travelled along with it. It made him excited, seeing his demon in rapt attention. The stockings, it seemed, only came up above his knees. He would’ve preferred thigh highs, maybe he could suggest it to Crowley later. Maybe the demon would appreciate it as much as he did. As he pulled on the other one, he noticed Crowley’s hand becoming fidgety. The tantalizing view of Aziraphale dressing up in front of him was beginning to take a toll on his patience, it seems. The angel smiled, deciding to reward his beloved demon for maintaining his composure.

“Crowley, dear, would you mind helping me with fastening my garters. It’s quite troublesome to do it by myself, you see.” He batted his eyelashes for good measure.

Now, to Aziraphale, it was a reward, so that Crowley could be involved in dressing him up and such. But to Crowley, Aziraphale was straight up torturing him. Because now that the pieces were put together, he wanted to do nothing else but to rip it off his angel’s body. The earnest look on Aziraphale’s face managed to satiate him, even if for a brief moment. One manicured hand held up the stocking for Crowley, while the other was on the demon’s shoulder. It was a pleasant weight, anchoring both of them. As Crowley moved from one to another, adjusting them to Aziraphale’s comfort, he couldn’t help but to lightly trace the edge of the lace digging just so slightly into his angel’s flushed skin.

That sent a wondrous shiver up his spine.

As every piece was fastened and adjusted, Crowley leaned back to admire Aziraphale. Under the lights in his room, Crowley took a solid moment to appreciate each and every rolls and curves of the angel. The straps and lace that binded him just a tad, seemed to accentuate that and more. He was glad he chose this particular model, it’s colour and design were meant for Aziraphale. He was unsure whether it was Aziraphale’s angelic divinity shining through with his love, or his own vision bathing the angel in a cherubic filter, either way, Crowley was entranced. His hands were still restless, somehow unnoticed by himself. But Aziraphale did; taking both of the demon’s hand and settling it on his hips, letting Crowley grab just so.

“Why don’t you take a picture, dear? They say it would make the view last longer.” he teased.

Inhaling a sharp, unneeded breath, Crowley got up. His hands gently pushing Aziraphale to sit down on the cushioned stool. The angel obeyed without much complaint, settling himself into a pose that came to him naturally. Legs crossed at the ankle, poised to side, just barely showing off his non-existent nether region,one hand just slightly resting on his lap, the other supporting most of his weight on the chair. Crowley had miracled his phone to his hand, already seeking for the perfect angle. But it was hard to find the perfect angle when every side of his angel were beyond perfect. Aziraphale paid no mind to his lover’s predicament, instead flashing him a sweet yet sultry smile, eyes half-lidded and amused.

Crowley managed to take a couple dozen pictures of Aziraphale in various pose and perspective. He made a mental note to purchase some better lighting in his room and a proper, professional camera. When he was certain he had almost exhausted his phone’s storage, he stopped to observe Aziraphale, this time with proper indulgence.Upon seeing this, Aziraphale decided to help him along. Getting up and approaching the demon, leaning down and bracketing him with his arms. Aziraphale leaned down, just a bit, allowing Crowley to be at eye level with his rather prominent cleavage. With a seemingly gentle grumble, Crowley encircled his arms around his angels waist, pulling him down to sit on his lap.

Aziraphale’s only reaction was a short laugh. Short because it was cut-off with a hungry kiss from Crowley. He gasped as he felt his lover’s hand caressing the expanse of his back, teasingly pulling at the straps and releasing it, letting the satisfying snap echoing quietly throughout his room, one by one, in no particular order. He pulled whichever was within his reach. His angel was responding with the barest of twitches, mewling deliciously as they continued to kiss. 

“‘m wanna take it all in, Angel,” he murmured in between kisses, “wanna see you, take this apart,” he scratched lightly at the lace of Aziraphale’s panties, “Need to take you apart, love.” he gasped, rolling his hips up to the angel. The principality responded with his own sigh of approval, “Oh, darling,” he giggled softly,

“No one is stopping you from doing so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy oh boy, we got a spicy one comin up!


	3. Crowley's Neighbours Shall be Lodging A Noise Complaint After This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fully clothed demon and lingerie-clad angel have very loud sex.
> 
> That's it, that's the plot.
> 
> Well, the demon loses his clothes halfway through, but you get the point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!
> 
> Let it be known that writing smut whilst listening to a compilation of Animal Crossing soundtracks is a very weird combination

Upon hearing that invitation to continue, Crowley herded Aziraphale to lie down on his bed. The black sheets highlighting the angelic being lying in the middle of it. Aziraphale was nothing but compliant as Crowley came hovering above him. He leaned into the demon’s palm as it came to his hair, running his lithe fingers through his curls.

The hand travelled lower, cupping his face. Aziraphale looked up to Crowley, once again nearly overwhelmed with the love he radiated. His thumb was stroking Aziraphale’s bottom lip, and he opened up, receiving a well-needed kiss.

Crowley had wanted to take up what Aziraphale had suggested earlier, to dress him up to be of pure decadence, then marking him up to his heart's desire. A small part of him wondered if his angel would allow him to completely ravish him without a chance of stopping. He figured he’d cross the bridge when he comes to it.

His kisses started to stray, chasing down Aziraphale’s throat, locking on to the previously abandoned spot, sucking out both a dark spot and a gasp from his beloved. But Aziraphale had offered him the free range of his skin to mark, and Crowley has always been the type to go all out. One mark became two, and two marks became a cluster of love bites that decorated his angel’s throat. Once Crowley was satisfied with that, he moved downwards.

There he was greeted with the ample give of Aziraphale’s newly produced breasts. Though it could not compete with Miss Fell’s, Crowley loved it all the same. It was his angel’s softness, as he happily claimed to himself. He noticed the flush spreading rapidly across the angel’s collarbone and chest, and he also noticed that it  _ matched _ with the pink lace of Aziraphale’s ensemble.

This revelation warranted a generous minute spent with him completely buried within Aziraphale’s cleavage, sighing giddily. Aziraphale let out a garbled laugh that morphed into a sudden moan in surprise, the weight of Crowley upon his chest was not unwelcomed. Not when he was stroking the lace of Aziraphale’s bra with reverence, sending delightful waves of pleasure throughout his angel’s body.

When Crowley finally decided to depart, almost regretfully, he placed a quick kiss to Aziraphale, indulging in the disappointed whine that was made when he broke off their kiss to continue his journey.

Crowley travelled down to the part of Aziraphale that he had always enjoyed lavishing attention to; his pudgy tummy. Fingers tracing the golden marks that ran in no particular patterns. They were breathtaking to look at,  _ Aziraphale _ was breathtaking overall. Not too long after they officially got together, Aziraphale had shared an experience he had with Gabriel before the Apocawasn’t. Aziraphale himself was already deep in his drunken stupor, clearly still upset over his ex-boss’s remark, despite covering it up badly with a sad chuckle.

Crowley had then made it his life’s mission to properly indulge in Aziraphale’s softness. He had spent countless hours in between the angel’s thighs, never letting a chance to properly plant himself to the pliant flesh of his angel go to waste. He was an unholy being, yes, but Crowley would have spent an eternity and more in reverence to the principality’s being.

Aziraphale had often found it amusing, the way Crowley would claw his way up for a chance to worship him, the litany of adorances and praises never seem to tire him. Truth be told, he himself had never taken Gabriel’s comment to heart, because unlike the archangel, Aziraphale had spent 6000 years among humans. Not only had he enjoyed his share of indulgent delicacies, he had also witnessed the ever evolving beauty standards that these humans had held up.

One century he’d be held as a divine figure of beauty, and in another as a commoner. In one decade he’d be scoffed at and look over, but in the next he’d have to fight off an army of suitors with a stick. As a being of light, you start to care less of what any being would think of you or your corporation. Aziraphale had loved his corporation before, and will be continuing to do so. Even better now that he was with Crowley, who seemed to be a temple away from literal idolatry. 

As Crowley lavished his attention on Aziraphale’s body, kneading the soft flesh and kissing the glowing stretch marks, the principality did not stop his happy little sighs and words of encouragement. Aziraphale was content with his demon’s affection, something he will never get tired of. As Crowley traced a lingering touch upon his garters, Aziraphale jolted unconsciously, moaning and pleading to be touched more. Anthony J Crowley had never been the type to leave his lovers hanging, so he obliged.

Hands circling Aziraphale’s hips, holding him in a grip not unlike a boa constrictor, the wily serpent, Crowley took in the feel of the angel’s warm skin greedily. Inhaling the faint smell of sharp ozone, and the stronger scent of old books and champagne, Crowley mumbled the words “I love you,” into Aziraphale’s flesh, in all the languages he accumulated during his existence, known to man or otherwise.

The flashes of love that Aziraphale had been quite accustomed to had morphed into a thunderstorm instead. Unrelenting and unapologetic, something that is undeniably Crowley;  _ his Crowley _ . With this revelation, Aziraphale’s stream of praises intensified, downright begging for Crowley to  _ get on with it, please, my dear!. _

The demon smirked, as he allowed his hands to continue their ministrations downwards, finding that Airaphale had chosen an Effort for tonight. Probably frustrated that all of his arousal had no proper outlet and was painfully contained within his corporation with nowhere to go. He probably was still painfully agitated, holding out for Crowley, but he was nearing the edge, that’s for sure.

Crowley moaned a quick “Thank you,” before diving down towards the angel’s soaking underwear.

  
  


Aziraphale’s simultaneous gasp and hair grabbing was satisfying. Nuzzling at the wet fabric, Crowley licked at it tentatively. The resounding moan of approval was enough for him to continue. The indulgent taste of Aziraphale and the delicious burn of getting his hair pulled, plus the sensation of heavy thighs trapping him there was enough to drive Crowley close to his breaking point.

He figured that he was tired of teasing and got up, which was a big mistake.

Not only was he leaving the warm confines of Aziraphale’s inner thighs, but he was also bearing witness to a completely debauched angel. His soft curls were heavily tousled from his constant thrashings, mouth agape mid-moan, eyes hazy and love-drunk, and heavenly flush that bloomed throughout his entire being. Not to mention the clusters of love bites that marked him, sending another wave of possessiveness crashing within Crowley.

When Aziraphale had realized Crowley’s absence, he held up his hands towards him. Grasping his hands in a motion that could be lovingly described as ‘grabby hands’. This, along with the consequent pout and teary blue eyes, was enough for the demon to pull the angel up to sit on his lap. Aziraphale’s happy little laugh as he clung onto the demon’s neck melted into a desperate moan as Crowley grinded his still clothed cock onto Aziraphale’s wet panties.

For Crowley, it was maddening, the feeling of Aziraphale’s generous body heat seeping through his own clothed body. The sensation of the angel’s lace-covered lingerie rubbing the fabric covering his skin was almost unbearable. Almost. Crowley wanted to hold on for Aziraphale. He wanted to watch his beloved come undone with just his kisses and caresses. Judging by the constant broken moans that was steadily increasing in pitch, it would not take too long before he does so.

Nibbling the angel’s earlobe and grabbing his lace-covered behind was the final push that he needed for Aziraphale to come with a high-pitched whine. His angel was downright sobbing and trembling in his lap, and Crowley could feel the wetness seeping through from the lace panties to his jeans. As Aziraphale was coming down from his high, regulating his breathing and pulling back to observe his lover’s face, he whispered a genuine, “Thank you, my love.” as he held Crowley’s face with the gentleness and reverence of a saint.

Crowley groaned, “We’re not nearly done yet, Angel.” as he buried himself in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. Again, Crowley was blessed with the principality’s chuckle as he felt the surprising, but not unwelcome clawing on his back, “Oh, I know, dear. I’m just saying it in advance.” came a ravenous purr. 

One hand traveled down to his midsection, toying around the button of his grey waistcoat.His own jacket had been long discarded at the start on the night, but he wasn’t protesting the sly unbuttoning of his vest. Just as how he had undressed Aziraphale before, the angel did it as neatly, yet impatiently, shucking his clothes off the bed, one by one, until he is stark naked. 

Aziraphale was smiling triumphantly, the smug bastard.

And Crowley could feel his love for him expanding to an unbearable amount.

As Aziraphale leaned in for more kisses, Crowley could not get over the new combined sensation of the angel’s flush warm skin and lace and satin rubbing against his bare body. The moment Aziraphale decided lock he stocking-clad legs around him, that was when Crowley knew it was time to properly ravage this angel.

He roughly shoved Aziraphale back down to the welcoming softness of his bed, bracketing the angel’s head with his long arms, trapping him. Not that there was anywhere Aziraphale would rather be. His body did gave an involuntary jump as he felt the heavy head Crowley’s cock rubbing the still damp fabric of his underwear. “Tell me, angel,” he began, no sign of stopping his ministrations, “, how should I fuck you?”.

“Should I rip this blasted thing off? Tear it to shreds? It’d be a pity to ruin such a delicate thing, yes?”

Aziraphale nodded his head shakily.

“Maybe I should just push it in, fabric and all. Wonder what that would feel like, hmm?”

A garbled moan, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the sensations.

“Or maybe,”Crowley grinned, hooking a nimble finger to one side of the underwear, pulling it aside, exposing the quivering cunt, soaked and clenching on nothing, “you'd prefer this instead?”. Aziraphale’s only response was long, stuttering moan, as the sudden cool air grazed his privates, along with the added sensation of Crowley’s hot cock resting against it. He could only grab hold of his demon’s back, tightening the hold of his legs around Crowley, urging the demon to take him. Crowley laughed in adoration, "Of course, more convenient this way.".

As much as Crowley would love to admit it, he wasn’t a sadist, well at least not always when he’s with his angel, bur Aziraphale’s desperate attempt to have Crowley was enough for him to finally give his spoiled angel what he wanted. It must have been long awaited for, because the moment his member breached into him, Aziraphale had forgotten to breathe. All gasps and moans and sighs were cut off as his entire body directed his attention to the feel of Crowley inside him. His eyes rolled back, a delirious gurgle bubbled through just barely noticeable. But Crowley had noticed, and he was more than delighted to watch his angel completely drowned in pleasure.

And he hadn’t even begun to move yet.

He watched patiently for the angel to regain his senses, to come down from his euphoric state. Once the glazed look in his eyes began to wash away, setting his vision alive again, Crowley leaned down for a gentle kiss. “You with me, Aziraphale?” he asked, used to this. Though it wasn’t always, Aziraphale could sometimes get lost in his pleasure, so lost that he could not register anything around him. Crowley, with his never ending nicknames of Angel, Love, Darling, Dove, and more, would call him by his name, as a sort of grounding mechanism. Sort of to ask,  _ “Are you alright? Are you with me? Do you want to continue?”, _

Aziraphale, sweet Aziraphale, replied to Crowley’s kiss with his own. The hands that were scratching down his back had been laid flat, rubbing encouraging patterns instead. “Quite so,” he whispered, smiling at the indulgent look that Crowley gave him. He pulled his body up, ever so slightly, a quiet groan escaping as he felt the shift of something within him, to properly hold on to Crowley. He nosed the serpent mark on Crowley’s side, humming his approval when his lover asked if he could begin.

The gentle push and pull of Crowley’s hips were much appreciated by Aziraphale. As he traced kisses down the side of Crowley’s face and towards his jaw, the angel couldn’t resist rubbing his clothed chest against his demon’s. Taking in the guttural moan as Crowley was trying, and failing, to maintain his composure. Aziraphale took the stutter in his movement to guide one arm that was holding Crowley up to rest upon his bra and chest. The serpent took it in stride, stroking the fabric, brushing over a clothed nipple, admiring the jolts of pleasure that came with it.

“Such a pretty angel,” he whispered, now both his hand and hips moving with purpose, “beautiful, stunning… I could keep you like this forever if I could, if you’d let me.” he laid a teasing kiss on one of the bruises he left on Aziraphale, and while it didn’t hurt, Aziraphale couldn’t help the little gasp of surprise. “What do you think, angel? Would you let me keep you like this? I’ll dress you in the prettiest of outfits, anything you want. Hell, if you want tartan lingerie, I’ll craft it up for you. I’ve made stars before, how hard could it be?” He chuckled at the amused smile from his angel.

“Wonder if you’d mind wearing these sort of things when we go out. It’ll be our little secret. A  _ dirty  _ little secret.” he hissed as his thrusting began to pick up in speed and strength. Aziraphale had been steadily letting out moans of delight, by both Crowley’s incessant fucking and his suggestion. “Imagine it, angel, you, all dressed up prim and proper, with your coat- and, and your fucking tartan bowtie.” a low growl as he was trying to compose himself, “All those blasted layers, angel, but underneath all that-” Aziraphale was tugging at his hair now, begging for something incoherent, but he understood.

Crowley flipped them over, a show of demonic strength really, and allowed Aziraphale to take charge of their pace. His hands were resting against his garter covered waist, thumbs rubbing maddening little circles into his bare skin, while his other fingers were massaging the lace-covered parts. Welcoming the pleasant weight of his angel above him, Crowley had lost his train of thought. Fully engrossed in the feeling of Aziraphale all around him, his solid body pinning Crowley down by his hips, his warm insides clenching him rhythmically, and his scent. His blessed scent. Again, there was the smell of heaven that still lingered with him, despite being overpowered by the smell of his own bookshop, and Crowley’s own demonic scent sticking to him.

“Crowley, Crowley! Oh, I-” came a stuttered gasp from his angel. Crowley had to squint as he looked up, Aziraphale’s holy light shining through, almost blinding him, as it does whenever this particular principality was edging closer to an orgasm. Crowley could only smile triumphantly as he thrusted upwards with enough force to punch out a desperate wail from Aziraphale. His hands that had been holding on tight before were grabbing greedy handfuls of angel, talons forming without him noticing. 

They were both chasing for a simultaneous release, each yelling or muttering sweet nothings to each other, before it became more of an incoherent mess of noises that would’ve more than anger the residents of Mayfair, had it not been for the thicker walls Crowley had miracled after their first complaint.

Finally, it was Crowley who caved in first. With a notably rough grind from his lover that was combined with something the angel had yelled out, something in their ancient tongue, Crowley had grabbed deep bruises into Aziraphale’s hips, forcing his cock in deeper as he came. The demon came with a low, but powerful growl that reverberated throughout Aziraphale’s entire angelic being.

And that seems to bring the angel to the end of his chase for pleasure. The immediate warmth that bloomed within him, added with the deep tremor that shook him, and Crowley’s eyes, intense yellow with not a speck of white, drove him to the throes of ecstasy. He gave one last clench that locked his connection with Crowley. The gush of his own wetness made it hard though, but Aziraphale secured himself tight, not wanting to let go just yet.

As they were both regaining their bearings, there was a series of angry thumping from the floor above. Crowley let out a tired chuckle, looks like he’ll have to make the ceilings thicker too.

Exhausted, and truly sated, Aziraphale allowed gravity to pull him down atop off Crowley. His lover didn’t seem to mind, instead he welcomed the solid weight of his angel, wrapping his arms around the pliant body. “Dearest,” Aziraphale spoke, voice hoarse from all the screaming, “would you mind unfastening this dreadful thing off me?”. Crowley chuckled, toying around the clasps of Aziraphale’s bra. “Oh? I thought you loved these,” he grinned, teasing.

“Oh yes, absolutely, they’re lovely, Crowley. Good choice, dear. But you see, as pleasant as they are to look at, it’s quite suffocating to be in it for this amount of time. Also it’s bothering me from enjoying my afterglow with you. So, if you please?” 

Crowley let out a short snicker of amusement as he obeyed his angel’s wish. The bra came off and was unceremoniously tossed aside to be dealt with later. In the morning perhaps. The rest however, would be impossible to remove, since Aziraphale was pretty adamant in claiming his rightful spot.

“We should clean up, angel,” Crowley muttered, not really wanting to get up himself, “You’re going to stain my sheets, dove.” Aziraphale scoffed, pecking his demon’s lips with a huffy kiss, “I’ll miracle it away tomorrow, and besides,” he gave his hips a little wiggle that pushed an overstimulated hiss out of Crowley, “it’s your mess, beloved. So let me enjoy this for a little longer.”

“Filthy angel.” Crowley grumbled.

“Fussy demon.” Aziraphale retorted.

They fell into a fit of giggles then, their combined love and mirth enveloping them in a warm cocoon of ease. As they began to wind down, Crowley himself figured a good slumber was in order, Aziraphale spoke out.

“What was it, dear, that you were saying before? Something about me being dressed in ‘blasted layers’. I didn’t quite catch it.” Crowley stared at his angel, trying to gauge any mischief behind that question, instead finding an entirely cherubic face staring back at him. “‘s nothing, just got lost in the throes of pleasure. Wasn’t really thinking straight. It was the hormones talking.” he mumbled, trying to figure out which excuse sounds the most plausible. Now he was blushing, embarrassed by a fantasy he had accidentally let out during coitus.

“Now that’s a pity. I was actually looking forward to a bit of, ah- risque clothing in broad daylight. Surely, you must have set aside a special set for that occasion, hmm?”

Crowley is truly, hopelessly in love with this bastard of an angel.

“We’ll talk about this later, angel, when I regain my pride and dignity in the morning, please.”

“Oh, but Crowley! I want to know when I could get my hands on that tartan lingerie. I bet they would be very stylish.” Crowley groaned, now he was downright messing with him.

“Now I’m wondering just how many items of clothing have you bought for me.”

“Angel,” he murmured, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end, not by a long shot!
> 
> I still want to continue this as a series of just Aziraphale in various lingerie, and some of Crowley too.
> 
> But I'm gonna take a quick break, until then feel free to suggest any particular garments or kinks that would be fun to explore.
> 
> I suppose I can plug in some of my social media now?
> 
> [My Art Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/dibsdewdles/)
> 
> [My Art Twitter](https://twitter.com/DDewdles)

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will focus solely on Aziraphale modelling lingerie for Crowley.  
> I do plan on continuing this up until some explicit scenes, as well some other chapters for specific lingerie, kinks, and what-not, so we'll see about that.


End file.
